Mirror
by mahaliem
Summary: Season 6 AU - Tara discovers that there is something wrong with Buffy. Starts at the end of "Dead Things". Now Complete!
1. Default Chapter

Title:     Mirror  

Author:             mahaliem          

Distribution:    Please ask first

Rating:          R

Summary:     AU – Season 6  - Tara discovers that there really is something wrong with Buffy.  The story begins at the end of "Dead Things".

Disclaimer:        Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy

Authors Note:   This is a strong R – both for the sex scenes and for the general dark tone of the work.  Feedback is appreciated (flames are not).  A big thank you for beta reading this story to Alena from Crumbling Walls forum and to Treacle-Antlers for all of her wonderful advice and support that I depend on.     

MIRROR

Buffy's POV

CHAPTER 1

Tara sat across from me, her hands nervously twitching, her gaze fastened to the floor.

            "Tell me," I begged.  "Tell me about the spell."

Her eyes lifted, and I could see unshed tears in them.  She reached forward and clasped my hands.

"I'm sorry, Buffy.  It really wasn't Willow's fault.  The demon bikers came…they broke the urn of Osiris."

"What exactly is wrong with me?" 

My voice had hardened, turning from pleading to demanding.  I had to know.  Drawing it out wasn't going to make it any easier to hear.  She was trembling a bit now, but I had little patience left.

            "Tara – tell me!"

"I…I…I don't think your soul came back.  At least, not all of it.  Oh, Buffy, I'm so sorry."

Quickly rising to stand, I turned my back on her.  This made sense, a whole lot of sense.  I had suspected it for a while now.  And tonight, as I beat Spike up, screaming that he was an evil, soulless thing, I'd been suspecting that the soulless thing I hated was actually myself.  

            "That's why I let Spike do those things to me.  That's why I liked it."

            "You mean, letting him hurt you?"

I sent Tara a withering look.  She could be so innocent at times.  She must have figured out the truth, though, because her face became beet red.  

"Buffy, I'm sure we can help.  Maybe we can call Giles, do research…or something."

Striding towards the door and grabbing my coat, I turned to Tara.

            "You want to help me?  Fine.  Stay with Dawn."  

She stood and walked over to me as I put on my jacket.  She was worried, but I didn't care.

            "Where are you going?  It's late."

"Hey, just found out I'm evil.  Where do you think I'm going?  I'll give you a hint, though.  It sure as hell isn't _Disneyland."_

With a final glance at Tara's stricken face, I opened the door and walked out into the night.

- - - - - - - - -

Spike was asleep when I got to the crypt; the bruising on his face was already beginning to heal.  The fact that I had hurt him so badly should have repulsed me, made me sick; instead it kind of turned me on.  I had marked him as mine.  

Quickly stripping off my clothes, I approached the bed.  Although his face was a mess, the rest of him was unmarred.  That was good.  For what we were about to do, I wanted him nice and healthy.  

Carefully, without awakening him, I pulled the sheet back from his form and eased between his legs.  Taking his flaccid cock in my mouth, I started to suck on it, urging it to grow with my tongue and my teeth.  Within moments, it was fully awakened and I could tell that its owner was waking up too.

            "Buffy?"

Replacing my mouth with my hand, I stroked him as I looked up into his startled blue eyes.  

"That better be a 'Why are you here, Buffy?' and not a 'Who is going down on me…Buffy?'  Because, I'm telling you, I'd better not ever catch you cheating on me."  

He was confused, I could tell, and that fact made me smile.  

            "No, I wouldn't.  Wouldn't cheat."

            "Good," I replied.  "Because if you did, I would so dust you."

I released him and started crawling up his body, my hands smoothing over his abdomen and chest, straying to his nipples for a moment, before finally coming to a rest on his bruised cheekbones.  

            "And it would be a shame to dust such a thing of beauty."

He took a sharp intake of air.  I'd never complimented him before.  The closest I'd come was admitting that sometimes I liked him.  His eyes were wide now, staring at me.  I licked my lips, and I could feel his erection pressing against me.  Gently, I stroked his hurt face with my fingertips.

            "If you were dust, then I couldn't touch you…and I love touching you."  

He let out a quiet moan.  _Good reaction, I thought, but I wanted more, so I continued._

            "If you were dust, then I couldn't kiss you…and I love kissing you."

Leaning over until my lips were within a hairsbreadth from his, I waited and watched him tremble beneath me.  Softly, I pressed my mouth against his, chastely at first.  Then, the kiss changed, and our tongues touched and twisted, thrusting, in an effort to explore each other thoroughly.  

When I pulled back this time, he groaned loudly and closed his eyes.  I raised my upper body away from his and tilted my hips downward, until his erection teased at my opening.     

            "And if you were dust, then I couldn't fuck you…and I love fucking you."

I hovered over him, letting the tip of him momentarily come in contact with my dampness before I twitched, mere fractions of an inch away. Again, I teased him, and his entire body shuddered in reaction.  When I did it a third time, his eyes snapped open, staring at me, and I smirked at him.

            "Is there something wrong, Spike?  Maybe something you want?"

In a flash, he grabbed my hips and slammed me down on him, filling me completely.  As I let out a thrilled gasp at the contact, I heard him shout.

            "You.  Damn it, I want you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning, as I was dressing, he awoke and looked at me.  One of his eyes was still purple and swollen half-closed, but the rest of his face seemed better.  I could tell he was a bit puzzled, but if he wanted to know something, he was going to have to ask. I wasn't about to volunteer any information.  

            "Pet…leaving a bit late, aren't you?"

            "Nope.  It's about nine o'clock.  It's not that late at all."

            "But what about the Bit and her school?"

With an exaggerated huff, I answered him.

            "Quit worrying.  She's fifteen.  She can get herself off to school."

When he continued to stare, I added to my explanation.

"Besides, Willow and Tara are there.  If there's a problem, I'm sure they can handle it.  That is, as long as they don't try to do any spells and screw them up."

He stood then, and started reaching for his pants to put on.  Playfully, I grabbed them from him and tossed them in a corner.   

            "Don't.  I like you naked."

I let my eyes drift down over his white torso until I reached his feet, then lazily raised them again so that I could look upon that marvelous face of his.  He could smell my arousal and was responding, rather obviously, to it.  I moved forward, rubbing against him and placed a quick peck onto his lips, then darted back before he could grab me and deepen the kiss.  

            "Got to be going, now.  Places to go, people to see."  

I started to climb to the upper story, stopping halfway up to turn and look at him.  He was running a hand through his bed-mussed hair, dejection apparent across his face.  

"Spike," I called to him, and he glanced at me, masking the previous expression.  "I thought I'd go to the Bronze tonight.  Want to meet me there, about six o'clock, maybe?"

He smiled at me, a smile that glowed, illuminating his face.  It warmed me to see it, to see how happy I could make him.  But I was evil, and he was, too.  We didn't deserve to be happy.  Deliberately, I crushed him. 

            "But if Xander, Willow, and Dawn are there…I'll probably just ignore you."

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

MIRROR

Author's Note:  In the last chapter - Tara told Buffy that the resurrection spell had gone wrong and that Buffy didn't have a soul.  Buffy's immediate response was to have sex with Spike.  

Chapter 2  

When I arrived home, the place was empty.  A note to me, from Tara, was left on the kitchen counter.  Without reading it, I crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the trash.  I was in no mood for advice or a lecture.  

After taking a shower, I changed into what Dawn and I laughingly called 'slutwear.'  My blouse exposed as much cleavage as possible, while the bottom hem of my skirt barely covered my ass.  Examining my appearance in the mirror, I was pleased.  I looked hot and just a bit trashy.  It definitely went well with my new attitude.  

It took only a few minutes for me to walk to the Doublemeat Palace.  Lorraine, the manager, saw me as I entered, and came forward with a disapproving look on her face at my attire.  I ignored it and told her that I wanted to talk to her in her office, privately.

It didn't take long for me to say what I had to say.  I told her that I'd thought about it, and just didn't think I could live with the lie anymore.  All those people believing that they were buying meat, and getting veggie burgers instead was bothering me.  I couldn't defraud customers anymore…and how many millions defrauded was that again?  

Lorraine got the message.  She said that she'd be in touch with the company's lawyers, and that she was sure they could think of some way to ease my guilt.  Happily, I skipped out and headed for the mall.  I wanted to buy something new for tonight, and didn't think that money would be a problem in the near future.    

- - - - - - - -

That night, the Bronze was full of sweaty, sexy, young things as Willow, Tara, Dawn, and I pushed our way inside.  But, I wasn't interested in them.  I was busy searching for a very non-sweaty, definitely not young, but incredibly sexy blonde.  Too much time had passed since I'd last seen him, since I'd last had him, and I wanted him again.  Now.  

Willow seemed to be eyeing Tara speculatively, unsure as to why she'd spent the night on the couch.  Obviously, Tara hadn't talked to the others about our little conversation.  Dawn was still a bit pissed that I hadn't been there that morning, before school, but I ignored her. I'd been ignoring her before I found out I was soulless, but now I had a good excuse for it.  

Xander and Anya were waiting at a table, and waved as they saw us.  Xander's eyes widened, and I noticed him swallow as I took off my jacket and he saw my outfit.  The lacy little skirt was demure enough, but my top was almost sheer, and I wasn't wearing anything under it.  As I looked around the table, I could tell that Xander wasn't the only one staring.

            "Um, Buffy," Willow ventured,  "I think you forgot something."

            "Hmm?" I responded, as innocently as possible.

Anya answered my unspoken question.

            "Your bra, Buffy.  You didn't put one on.  I can practically see your nipples."

While the others looked away in embarrassment, and Xander reached for his drink and started gulping, I turned to confront Anya.

            "Really?  You can almost see my breasts?  What do you think of them?"

            "Well, actually they're quite nice.  Mine are a bit bigger, though."

She would have continued, but Xander began to choke on his beer, so she turned away and proceeded to pound on his back.  Willow was huddled next to him, trying to make sure he was still breathing, while Tara and Dawn looked on in concern.  I took this opportunity to scan the room.  I knew I'd felt Spike's presence when I'd entered the club.  Now, I focused my slayer senses on finding him.  

Spike was standing in the shadows of the stairwell, watching us, watching me.  Without even glancing at my friends, I rose from my seat and started towards him.  His face became wary, unsure, and he stood straighter as I approached.  When I grabbed the lapels of his coat, he visibly flinched, expecting to be hit, knocked away.  Instead, I leaned forward and nibbled on his lower lip.  He was surprised, but quickly got into the right spirit when my hands slipped under his coat and slid around his body to grip his ass, pulling him closer.   

For a few minutes, our mouths and tongues played with each other, until he raised his head and spoke.

            "Thought you were going to ignore me if your friends were here," he whispered.

            "I lied."

Reluctantly relinquishing his luscious backside, I clasped one of his hands and led him across the room with me towards my friends – friends who were now staring at me as if they didn't know me.  The exceptions were Dawn, who was smiling, and Tara, who seemed upset.  Everyone else looked as if they'd just been punched in the stomach and hadn't gotten their breaths back yet.  

I pushed Spike down into the chair I had vacated earlier, and plopped myself on top of him, wiggling my backside until I was comfortable, and he was not.  Then, I grabbed his arms and wrapped them around me.  It felt nice, cocooned against his cool, hard body.  

Xander gaped a bit more, then turned to Willow accusingly.

            "It's a spell.  You did a spell.  Well, you can just undo it."

            "I didn't, I swear.  No spell."

Leaning my head against Spike's shoulder, I refuted her claim, my voice low and harsh, even to my own ears.

            "But you did do a spell.  And you messed it up.  Again." 

I now had everyone's attention.

"You screwed up, Willow.  When Spike hits me, the chip doesn't go off.  That means I'm not quite human. You brought me back wrong!"

"No…"

Furious, I rose from Spike's lap and leaned over Willow, forcing her back in her chair, her eyes wide with fright.

"You did!  Ask Tara.  She researched it for me.  Now, I don't have my soul.  Not only did you pull me out of heaven, you damned me so that I can never go back!"

Without thinking, I raised my fist.  I wanted to hurt her, hurt her like I was hurting.  I would've struck her, but Spike grabbed my arm and dragged me back into his lap, tightly holding me while tremors of emotion raged through me, causing me to shake.

The others were on their feet, backing away.  Dawn seemed uncertain, looking back and forth between Willow, who was in tears and being led away by Xander, and myself.  

"Go with them," I told her.  "I'm spending the night with Spike, but by the time I get home tomorrow, I want her gone."

I stayed in Spike's arms, my head nestled in the space where his neck met his shoulder, long after the Scoobies had escaped from the Bronze and my wrath.  His cool fingers kept caressing my arms, my back, the nape of my neck, trying to calm me down, doing his best to offer me comfort.    Slowly I started to feel better, more relaxed.  

With my nose up against his skin, he smelled marvelous, and I wondered if all vampires smelled so good.  I tried, but couldn't remember if Angel had ever been so appealing to my senses.  Deliberately, I flicked my tongue against his skin, tasting him, and from his reaction, you'd think an electric current had just run through him.  

Spike pushed me away from him a little so that he could look into my face. 

            "Luv?  You okay?"

Sighing, I looked down for a moment, then back up to his concerned face.

            "Didn't you hear?  I'm not okay.  I'll never be okay."

I was an evil, soulless thing.  I knew that since I was soulless, I shouldn't be feeling the way I was, but as I leaned back against him, a tear slipped down my cheek.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

MIRROR

Author's Note:  In the last chapter Buffy blackmails the Doublemeat Palace.  That evening she flaunts her relationship with Spike in front of her friends then confronts Willow about bringing her back from the grave.  

CHAPTER 3  - - - - - - - -

After that night at the Bronze, Willow left to live with her parents until a space opened up in the dorms, and Tara moved back in.  I liked Tara.  She was good with Dawn, kept the house running smoothly, and didn't mind the fact that Spike had taken up residence in my room.  I knew that she cared for us, but I wondered how much the guilt of participating in my resurrection played in her decision to stay.

Occasionally, Spike's presence embarrassed Tara and Dawn.  On mornings, after particularly enthusiastic nights, I would catch them sending each other sympathetic glances.  They never complained, though.

I didn't see too much of Xander and Anya.  They came over for cake on my birthday, and gave me a lovely weapons chest as a gift, but it was a quiet and somber affair, and hadn't lasted too long.  Throughout the visit, Anya didn't even seem to realize that I was almost constantly in Spike's arms.  Xander, however, would noticeably avoid looking at us.  I hadn't seen Willow at all since the night at the Bronze.

The lawyers for the Doublemeat Palace had come through, and my bank account was so healthy that a flood of credit card and loan offers showed up in my mailbox.  Dawn's social worker came by and met with Tara and me.  She was impressed with Tara's caring and involvement in Dawn's life.  However, she wasn't so impressed with me, but my new financial solvency helped me to meet with her approval.  

They say that crime doesn't pay, but so far, being evil had worked just fine for me.  I no longer had a crappy job, and there was plenty of money in the bank.  Tara was taking care of Dawn and most of the household responsibilities.  All I had to do was patrol.  And the glittering icing on the cake was the sex.  Lots of it.  With Spike.  

At my insistence, Spike had practically moved in the evening after the scene with Willow.  He still kept some of his stuff at his crypt, but he spent every night with me.  We'd patrol, kill things, then, more often than not, spend some time rolling on the ground, trying our best to screw each other's brains out.  Afterwards, we'd brush dirt and grass off of ourselves, straighten our clothing, and return to the house.  

He was happy, joyously happy.  His open smile would warm me every morning when I awoke to find him cuddled up next to me, eyeing me as if he couldn't believe that I was real.  Once, I went into the bathroom when he was showering, and watched in amazement as he did this incredibly sexy dance while humming a tune.  It made me so damn hot.  On one of his turns, he spotted me and stopped, his face sheepish for the few seconds it took before I flung myself on him.  It was definitely worth my sopping wet clothing and all of the mopping up afterwards.  

The happiest I think I ever saw him was when Riley showed up at our door, one evening before patrol.  He claimed that he needed help with a demon.  After a moment of staring at him, I closed the door without saying a word, and then suggested to Spike that we stay in and watch a movie.  We never did get to see that movie, and the wall behind my bed gained a huge dent in it from the headboard repeatedly being slammed into it that night.

Too bad there was still a fly in the ointment…or should I say flies?  The trio of nerds was still around, causing trouble, and making everyone miserable.  I finally had gotten a clue as to where their hideout might be, and decided that this time, they were going to be stopped.  Permanently.      

- - - - - - - - - - -

It had been a horrible week.  That Saturday, Spike and I had attended the wedding that wasn't.  The whole event was a disaster.  A demon started a fight, and I discovered that it's murder trying to slay in a bridesmaid's dress.  Mr. Harris got sick in my purse at the rehearsal dinner, and Xander left Anya at the altar.  

Even though it was a lousy thing for Xander to do to her, he was my friend, and she kind of wasn't, so I stood up for him.  This caused a fight between Spike and me.  For Spike, no matter what Xander's problem was, once they were at the church, he should've gone through with it.  Basically, he felt that Xander hadn't behaved as a gentleman should.  Like he would even know how a gentleman behaves.  

Additionally, I wasn't too thrilled at seeing Willow at the rehearsal or the wedding.  She and Tara seemed to be friendly, but I still wanted nothing to do with her.  It didn't make my life any easier when Spike greeted her warmly.  I'd always suspected that he had a soft spot for her…she'd told me about the time he'd offered to turn her a few years back.  

We both ended up going to bed mad that night, which made the sex a bit rougher than usual.  The next night, with our bruises and scratches almost healed, but resentments still simmering, we went out to look for Jonathan, Warren, and what's-his-name.  

There was a rental house in a neighborhood not far from my own that we thought they might be using as a hideout.  Spike and I were walking up the driveway, when a huge demon leapt out and tried to stab me with a sharp appendage.  Fortunately, Spike had an axe, and quickly used it to separate the demon's head from its shoulders.   This wasn't the first time the trio had sent monsters after me.  

Although unharmed, I was seriously pissed off.  It wasn't enough that I was pulled out of heaven, abandoned by Giles, was responsible for Dawn, and had to try to earn money.  These jerks had to make my life a living hell.  They'd stuck me in an endless loop with a mummy hand, almost killed me when they made me invisible, _and used demons to attack me.  The worst had been when they'd killed Katrina and tried to make me think that I'd done it.  _

Kicking open the door, I marched inside and searched the rooms, with Spike following close behind.  I'd almost given up when I noticed a door leading to the basement.  As I opened it, I heard scrambling from below. 

The nerds were arrayed around a room filled with scattered charts, books, and computer monitors.  The blonde one was playing something that looked like a didgeridoo, while Warren was instructing a robot duplicate of himself to attack me.  Although the Warrenbot was strong, stronger than April had been, it didn't take very long to destroy it.  

What's-his-name, in the meantime, had managed to summon a Polgara demon with his music, and sent it at me in attack mode.  But I had my own demon, Spike, who is not only faster and stronger than most opponents, but is much better looking, as well.  Throughout the battles, Jonathan huddled in a corner, repeatedly whining, "Please, don't hurt me."

As the robot spluttered on the floor, and the demon lay dying, I once again started to approach my nemeses, nemisies…my enemies.  

            "You killed Katrina!" I yelled.

            "It was an accident!" cried Jonathan.

            "Shut up!" snarled Warren, to his partner in crime.  He then turned to face me. 

            "The bitch deserved it…just like you deserve this."

He lifted his hand, and I saw the barrel of the gun pointed at me and I froze.  I didn't want to die.  Not again.  Time seemed to slow as I watched his finger tighten on the trigger.  Then Spike, my Spike, flung himself in front of me.  The twitching and spasms of my lover's body echoed the sounds of the gunshots as the bullets tore into his flesh.  

Spike fell to his knees, and I could hear the chamber of the gun clicking emptily.  I rushed past Spike towards Warren, who panicked and threw the gun at me.  I simply knocked it away.  In a rage, I grabbed Warren, spun him around, and with a quick yank, snapped his neck.  

I let his dead body slowly slide from my arms to the concrete floor of the basement.  Jonathan and the other one were now crying, begging for mercy, begging me not to hurt them.  I had turned and taken a step towards them, when a hand came up and grabbed mine.  I spun around, still furious, to see Spike, blood leaking from his various wounds, shaking his head at me.

            "Don't," he rasped, before his eyes closed in pain. 

Kneeling down and wrapping my arms around him, I turned my head until I could see the others.  

            "Go.  Leave Sunnydale.  Now," I hissed at them.  

Cautiously, they began to walk past me to exit the basement.   I stuck out a hand to halt them.  

"Take him with you," I ordered, nodding my head to indicate Warren's body.  "And if you _ever come back, I'll kill you, too."   _

Slowly, they moved towards the corpse, and I started the slow arduous journey back to my house, with the wounded Spike in my arms.  It was only after I got him home and laid him down on my bed that I discovered that my hands were covered with blood.  

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

MIRROR

Author's Note:  In the last chapter Spike has moved into the Summers' home.   Also living there now is Tara, who is taking care of Dawn.  Buffy finds the nerds and kills Warren after he tries to kill her, but shoots Spike instead.  

Spike's Point of View

CHAPTER 4 - - - - - - - - -

Bullets won't kill me.  Can cause a helluva lot of damage to a fellow, though.  Especially six of them at close range.  

After the knock down with the three losers, Buffy managed to drag me back to her place. The witch dug the bullets out of me, which hurt like hell, despite large amounts of whiskey consumed.  Then, Buffy and her sis bandaged me up till I looked as if I were a mummy, instead of a vampire.  Could tell the Slayer was worried about me.  Didn't hold a candle to how worried I was about her.  

Buffy had killed a bloke.  Snapped his neck like it was a twig.  I knew how she felt about killing.  Found out the hard way when we'd thought she'd killed the girl in the woods.  Figured she'd be torn up about killing Warren, even if the prat deserved it.

It wasn't until the next night that I was able to talk to her about it.  I'd fallen asleep after the three women finished playing at being nurses, and ending up sleeping throughout the next day.  By the time I woke up, it was dark again, and I was alone in the bedroom.  My wounds had healed somewhat. When I pulled a bandage aside so that I could take a look-see at one, the gouge in my flesh was still there, but smaller.  Figured in the next few days, all of the holes would be closed up entirely.  

I'd just managed to smooth the bandage back in place when Buffy entered with a mug of heated blood in her hand.  Taking a quick whiff, I was startled to discover that it was human, not pig.  My estimate of the length of my convalescence lowered as my eyebrows rose.  Buffy noticed my look.

            "What?"

            "Thought you didn't like me eating people."

            "It's no big deal."

I stared at her.  It was a big deal.  She knew it.  I knew it.  Buffy tried to cover her feelings by fussing with the pillows and blankets as I drained the cup.  Placing the empty mug on the nightstand, I reached out, grabbing one her hands, and pulled her closer until she was forced to sit on the edge of the bed.  

            "Luv, I'm sorry you had to do it."

She glanced at me, confused, so I elaborated a bit.

            "Sorry you had to kill that Warren fellow.  Shouldn't feel bad about it, though."

She stared at me for a moment, then answered quietly.

            "I don't."

At my perplexed expression, she continued.

"I don't feel bad about killing him.  He had a soul, but he was evil.  Who knows how much pain and suffering he would've caused if I'd let him live."

            "But, before…"

"You were right.  I've saved the world numerous times, saved countless lives.  One mark in the minus column shouldn't make much of a difference."

It was wrong, somehow.  This wasn't like Buffy.  I needed to ponder it a bit, mull it about in my head, but I didn't get a chance.  The Slayer had risen from her seated position, pulled the blankets and sheets off me, and started to gently run her hands over my naked body.

After a moment, she backed away and slowly divested herself of her clothes.  I stared as she exposed her golden skin to my gaze, inch by lovely inch.  She'd stopped wearing a bra weeks before, and as she unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it open, my erection grew, became harder.

With a slight smile, she spun so that her back was to me, and undid her skirt.  As it dropped to the floor, I saw that she wore only a scrap of lace, the thong revealing the lush cheeks of her ass to me.  I groaned, and she turned back to face me, skimmed the panties off, then, swaying her hips, walked towards me. When she was next to the bed, her hand dipped down into her folds as I watched; then, she reached out and a glistening fingertip touched my lower lip before it slipped inside, and I tasted her.  

            "I know that your mouth is in fine shape…"

The fingertip left my tongue and trailed down my throat, spreading a line of warmth until it reached my cock. 

            "But, what about this?  Is it in full working order?" 

            "Figure it might be able to do the job."

            "Guess I'll have to take it for a test ride, then," she murmured.

Gently, she eased onto the bed so that she straddled my hips. Carefully, she lowered herself, taking just a fraction of my length inside of her at a time. It seemed as if days passed before I was fully sheathed in her damp warmth.  With barely a hint of movement, she began to use those exquisite Slayer muscles on me.  Her inner chamber squeezed and tightened around me and I moaned, quaked, and gasped in reaction.

I was close, so incredibly close, when she leaned forward and brushed her hair from her neck.  

            "Do it, Spike.  Bite me."

I raised my hands from where they'd been clenched at her hips, and gripped her arms, stilling her.  

            "No, Buffy."

            "Please.  I need it.  I almost lost you."

Shaking my head, I continued to try to push her back, but she was stronger.  She also didn't play fair, choosing that moment to ripple her inner muscles in a way that caused me to groan in ecstasy.  Then, she did it a second time. Then a third.

"Please," she whispered, between harsh, sobbing gasps.  "I belong with you.  Mark me as yours."

Could use a lot of excuses for it — my weakened state, the feel of her surrounding me, the taste of human still lingering on my tongue.  But the real reason was that I wanted it, had wanted it for a while.  I'd dreamed of sinking my fangs into her, wiping my broody sire's scar off of her throat and replacing it with mine.  

With great care, I placed my mouth over the mark on her neck, and slipped into game face.  I eased my fangs into her, piercing her skin, slowly deepening it until they were fully sheathed before I began to suck.  As her blood flowed into my mouth and down my throat, I felt her climax, her entire body trembling with reaction as her pussy clenched and convulsed around me.  The sensations, the feel of her, the taste of her, overwhelmed me, and I lifted my mouth from her and shouted as my essence shot into her. 

She was mine now.  

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

MIRROR

Author's Note:  First of all – Thank you so much for all of the reviews.  I really appreciate them.  

In the last chapter Spike is recovering from the bullet wounds.  The differences between the souled and unsouled version of Buffy is starting to bother him, but he's distracted from that thought when she seduces him and asks him to bite her.  This is still from Spike's POV.

Um…fasten your seatbelts…it starts to get bumpy.  

CHAPTER 5- - - - - - - - - - - 

The next few days passed in a haze of blood and sex, a swirl of drinking and fucking.  With all the human blood I was consuming, I was soon fully healed, and felt stronger than I ever had.  Who knows how much longer it would have lasted if Harris hadn't come over for a 'pity poor me session.'  

He'd taken to visiting us lately.  Was lonely, I suppose.   Bringing over a six-pack, he'd sit on the couch next to the Niblet, and whine as to how Demon Girl didn't love him anymore. I had no sympathy for the git.  He ignored me, but I always made sure that I helped myself to a few of his beers.  

This time, however, he'd picked a time when Buffy and her sis were out shopping.  What for, I had no idea.  Seemed they had plenty of clothes and gewgaws.  Of course, the Slayer could always use more of those lacy under things.  They were so damn fragile.  

Harris glanced around, unsure about staying, but Tara's presence and the fact that he probably didn't have anything better to do, convinced him to stay.  So, he sat on one end of the sofa, watching a basketball game, while I sat on the other end, drank his booze, and made snide comments.  

All this fun would've continued if Tara hadn't chosen that time to talk to me.  I'd caught her looking at Buffy and me with wide, worried eyes.  Something had been bothering the chit.  

With a nervous glance at Harris, she sat in the chair next to the couch and leaned towards me, while nibbling her lower lip in anxiety.  

            "Spike…I need to talk to you about something."

            "Not stopping you."

She took a deep breath.

            "The biting.  I don't think it's good for Buffy.  Or for you."

Before I could even say a word, the prat leapt up from the couch and started yelling.

            "You're biting Buffy?"

He headed towards me, his face red, and anger lighting his eyes.  I rose and confronted him.

            "Not hurting her…much."

            "That's it.  You're dead…deader."

Harris grabbed me, pulling me forward, preparing to punch me when I spat out what I knew would hit him harder than he wanted to hit me.  

"She asks for it.  Hell, when she's thrashing under me, she begs for it.  Adds a bit more bang to the banging."

His face paled, and he reeled back in shock, letting me go in the process. 

            "No…she wouldn't.  Buffy wouldn't." 

            "She does.  Gets off on it.  And I do it 'cause I love her."

Harris had backed all the way to the door now, and was reaching for the handle. 

"No, you're not doing it because you love her.  If you did, you wouldn't be drinking from her.  And you'd know that Buffy, if she was in her right mind, would never ask you to."  

He opened the door and started to leave, but turned once more, a look of disgust etched over his face.  

"I'd actually started to think that maybe you did love her, but I was wrong.  You don't care.  To you, she's just breakfast in bed."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Buffy arrived back at the house, I was waiting for her.  She and Dawn entered, laden with bags, and I watched as she handed item after item to her sis, but didn't once touch her or smile at her.  As cold-blooded as I was, it chilled me inside to see it.

After Harris left, Tara and I had a bit of a chat.  Evidently, she'd noticed things were off with Buffy; her continued hatred of Willow for one, and now the biting.  The witch didn't even know about the blackmail of the Doublemeat Palace, or Warren's murder, but even without those damning items, the evidence was astounding.  Buffy was completely indifferent to her friends and family, and ignored all of her responsibilities.  The only things she seemed to care about these days were slaying and me, and when I'd been laid up, even the slaying had been dismissed as unimportant. 

Buffy had come back wrong.  I'd taunted her with it.  Shoved that fact down her throat.  Now, I was the one choking on it.  

Tara had been talking with Willow.  The two of them had discussed the resurrection spell, what went wrong, and, more importantly, how it could be fixed.  Each morning, while Buffy and I slept in and Dawn was at school, Tara had slipped out to the Magic Box to research things.  Turns out that she and Willow found a spell.  It was complicated and dangerous as hell, but if it worked, then Buffy would be better.  Her soul would be returned.  

Knew that Buffy with a soul wouldn't want me, not in her bed, not in her life.  I'm not stupid.  But I loved her…all of her.  And, she needed her soul.  Besides, if the spell worked the way it was supposed to, I wouldn't be around anyway.  

I needed some time to talk to Buffy in private, so Tara came forward and offered to take Dawn to a movie.  Buffy just nodded her head that it was okay with her.  Didn't ask which movie it was, didn't protest that it was a school night, and didn't notice Dawn's stricken look when she went to give Buffy a kiss goodbye, only to have Buffy turn away from her.  I did.  The little one was hurting.

After they left, Buffy folded her arms and waited.  She knew something was up.  Taking a deep breath, I began to talk.

            "Buffy, your mates are worried about you.  I'm worried about you."

She stood there, silently staring at me, so I continued.

            "Since you've come back, you've been behaving…different like."

With a sigh, she questioned me.

"Different, as in no longer happy, bouncy Buffy?  Different, as in doesn't want to be bothered with whiny, screwed up friends?"

She eased up next to me, and rubbed herself against me; then, with eyes flashing a hint of mischief, she asked it.

            "Or different, as in having crazy hot sex with the former Big Bad?"

I gripped her arms and gently pulled her away from me and shook my head.

            "No, Buffy.  Different, as in not having a soul."

She flinched.  

            "Well, why are they complaining to you?  It was their fault."

Quietly, I replied.

            "They think they know how to fix it.  Get you your soul back."

She whirled on me, then.  Her face as hard as stone, her muscles clenched in anger.  She moved forward and, unthinkingly, I took several steps back, trying to keep some space between her fury and me.

"And you think that I should let them?  Let them mix their potions, wiggle their fingers, and play with my life again?"

"You need your soul, Slayer!  What you are right now…it's not you.  Not how you should be.  It's no good.  For you or the Bit."

She closed her eyes for a moment.  When she opened them again, she flung her head back and looked at me.  I couldn't read her expression as she came towards me, so I wasn't sure what to expect when she reached out and grabbed me by my arms, pulling me 'til our bodies were pressed together.  When her hands released my arms and traveled to my chest, I shuddered.  There they splayed open and explored a bit before the left one moved around to my back and her right one drifted lower, fluttering over my crotch.  

As Buffy began stroking my now hardened shaft through the denim of my jeans, she began kissing my throat, licking it a bit, blowing air against the damp spots, and making me shiver.  

"Don't you get it?" She purred.  "You won."

 Pain blossomed in my neck.  I pushed her away, staggered back, and stared at the blood, my blood that had stained her mouth when she'd bitten me.  The bitch only smiled and licked her lips.

            "You wanted me in the dark with you.  Now, I am."

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

MIRROR

Author's Note:  In the last chapter Xander is angry when he learns that Spike is biting and drinking from Buffy.  Spike talks to Tara, learns that the witches have a spell that will restore Buffy's soul, then tries to convince Buffy that she needs it. 

CHAPTER 6- - - - - - - - - - -  

Stomping through the remains of the basement that Warren and his cronies had used for a lair, I searched for furniture and anything valuable enough to hock.  There were a couple of chairs that I considered moving to my crypt, but a good portion of it was junk.  And the bean bag chairs?  I think not.  

Was in a foul mood, and had been for the past several days.  After Buffy bit me, I tried to lay down the law with her.  She needed her soul.  Until she agreed to Willow and Tara's spell, there was going to be no more blood drinking, no more sex, and no Spike.  At first, she hadn't believed me.  Tried her best to convince me to change my mind.  You'd think I'd enjoy that, but it was hell.  Managed to hold it together, gritted my teeth until I swear they were ground down to nubs, and repeated my stipulations.  

Then, Buffy got nasty.  Said that she didn't react well to ultimatums, and compared me to that git, Riley.  Told her there was a world of difference between him and me.  He wanted her to be less than she was; I wanted her to be more.   

It ended with me packing my gear and walking out.  Returning to my crypt, I found that there wasn't much left in it.  Most of the heavy stuff was still there, but my chair and telly were gone.  That was the reason I was now picking through the remains of lifestyles of the young and geeky.  And my bad mood I owed to the fact that since I'd left, I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Buffy.  

Dawn had stopped by the crypt earlier today, and the newsflash from Revello Drive wasn't of the good.  While I'd been there, Buffy had at least made an effort to behave normally.  That had evidently stopped after I walked out the door.

I made my way over to the computer monitors and flipped them on.  Needed to know if they worked properly before I sold them.  Knew a bit about computers.  Keeping up with technology paid off at times.  Using computers is how I'd managed to track down the Slayer's dorm room, years earlier.  

Skimming through the files and bypassing the ones that reeked of loserdom, such as 'RUA Trekkie,' I latched onto one that said 'Cameras.'  Opening them up, I was astounded to discover that the wankers had wired half of the town to spy on Buffy and her friends.  Although my own crypt had been missed, there were cameras everywhere; the Magic Box, some places that looked like Willow's school, and Harris' worksite. 

Then, I opened up the one that was labeled 'Revello Drive.'  For a moment, I stared at what was shown on the screen, transfixed by what I was seeing.  Buffy was on her front steps with Xander.  They'd evidently been sitting there, having a drink, for a bottle stood not far from them. They were friends.  I knew this.  Call me old-fashioned, but I don't think friends usually snog each other like these two were doing.  

Buffy broke the kiss and I breathed a sigh of relief.  That sigh quickly turned to a curse when she shifted so that she was no longer sitting on the step next to him, but on his lap.  My hands clenched into fists as I watched her reach up and pull his head back down to hers.  

At that moment, I heard a loud 'poof,' and Anya appeared next to me, veins all popping out in full vengeance mode.  

            "Oh, it's you, Spike," she said, with a huff.  "I thought I felt someone wanting 

            a bit of vengeance from this location.  Is anyone else around?"

I simply stared at her, unable to form any words.  She looked puzzled and came closer.

"Spike – it's you, isn't it?  You're the one sending out the vengeance vibes.  What's going on?" 

With mild curiosity, she glanced at the screen before I could stop her, and she froze.  Her demon face melted away to reveal a young woman, whose heart was being slowly torn apart.  In a flash, I slammed my arm across the table, knocking all of the computers to the floor, splitting them open, and spilling their pieces onto the cold concrete.  To hell with what they were worth; I had to make the images stop.  Then, rushing out of the house towards my motorcycle, I was determined to make the originals stop as well.     

- - - - - - - - - - -

As fast as my motorcycle was, and as short as the distance was, Anya had beaten me there.  As I pulled up in front of the house and started marching towards it, Anya was leaving, tears streaming down her face, too upset to remember that she was a demon, too upset to remember that she didn't have to walk anywhere.  Harris was following her, his face pale, drawn, looking like he'd aged years in the past few minutes.  

As I passed him, he threw me a worried glance, and I could see him swallow hard.  Part of me wanted to grab him by that stupid floppy hair of his and tear his head from his shoulders.  The tiny part of my brain still working assured me that if I wanted to kill him, despite the massive headache I would get, he'd be around.  But, as much as I hated Harris at the moment, I knew that he wasn't the one responsible.  

My goal was still standing on the front porch.  She was deceptively clad in a lace top and skirt, looking so damn innocent.  The thing that belied her appearance was the hint of a smug expression playing over her face as she watched me come closer.  

Grabbing her, I slammed her back into the wall, and she gasped and closed her eyes for a moment, out of shock.  But, when she opened them again, she was smiling.  Damn, the bitch was pleased with herself.  Practically filled with glee.  I tightened my grip on her arms.  

            "How long?" I rasped.

"I don't know for sure.  I didn't get his pants off him.  But, from what I felt when sitting on his lap, you don't have to worry about the competition."

I yanked her towards me, then slammed her back against the wall, harder.  The light that flowed from the windows to the porch seemed to shiver at the impact.

            "How long?"

This time, when she hit the wall, it must of hurt a bit, because her smile was no longer there.  She pushed me away from her, then kicked me, so that I flew off the porch, to land sprawled on the front yard.  As I rose to my feet, she came down the steps and grabbed me by my coat.  

"You think…what?  That this has been going on for days, months, years?  Well, by my calculations, it's been about ten minutes.  I figured at some point you'd find out and haul your undead butt over here.  Thought it would take at least a day or two, though.  What were you doing, spying on me?" 

            "Not me…Warren!" I yelled at her.  

I spun around, trying to figure the camera angle.  Ah, there it was.  I strode over to where an ugly, little gnome stood under a tree.  I picked it up and smashed my fist into it.  Using my now bloody hand, I reached inside the remains and retrieved a small, black camera.  Angrily, I held it in front of her.

"The gits had them everywhere.  Was at their place, checking out their computers, when I caught the show." 

She seemed a bit taken aback as she stared at the camera.  Dawn, having heard the noise from inside the house, had come out and joined us, and she too stared for a moment.  Suddenly, Dawn took the camera from me, tossed it to the ground, and smashed it with the heel of her shoe.  Then, the little one's eyes lit on my injury.  

            "You're hurt, Spike.  Your hand's bleeding.  Come on in and I'll fix it for you."

Without glancing at the Slayer, I followed Dawn inside the house, up the stairs, and into the bathroom, where she reached under the sink for a large first-aid kit.  She made me take off my coat, and neatly laid it on the edge of the tub, then held my hand under the running water and carefully cleaned my cuts.  She'd just finished washing my hand and was patting it dry, while I tried to convince her that I didn't need any bandaging, when Buffy quietly entered.

            "I'll finish up here," she told her little sis.

The Bit looked mutinous for a moment, then gave in. 

"Fine.  I'll heat up some blood for him.  Maybe you can convince him that gauze is a good thing."

Buffy followed her sis to the door, and closed it behind her.  Coming back to me, she picked up the gauze and started wrapping it around my hand.  Her head was bent over the task, and I gazed at it, part of me noticing the dark roots creeping up, while the majority of my attention focused on the feel of her hands on mine.  

She finished, neatly taping the end down, and returned the first-aid kit back under the sink before she spoke.

            "I'm sorry, Spike."

But I didn't want to hear it.

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

MIRROR

Author's Note:  In the last chapter Spike has moved out of Buffy's house after failing to convince her that she needs a soul.  While going through the nerds' abandoned lair looking for things to hock, he switches on the computer, finds the cameras, and catches Buffy and Xander kissing.  Furious, he arrives at Revello Drive and confronts Buffy. 

CHAPTER 7- - - - - - 

She was apologizing to me, but I didn't really care.  She knew that it wasn't enough, so she started explaining.

"It was nothing...it didn't mean anything.  We were drinking; both of us were feeling sorry for ourselves.  It just…happened."

"But when it happened, you decided to go with it.  Use it to hurt me.  Make me jealous."

Rapidly blinking, she raised her eyes to mine.  

            "I had to have you back. I need you."

She flicked her hair back and took a deep breath before continuing.

"I need you," she repeated.  "Without you here with me…it's like I'm lost.  I can't find my way."

"So I'm what…your moral compass, your center?"  I gave a harsh laugh.  "Hate to break this to you, but evil undead here."

            "And I hate to break it to you, Spike, but so am I.  Evil.  Undead."

For moment, she turned her back on me, her emotions high, then spun back around, pushing her face close to mine.

"Don't you get it yet, Spike?  We belong together.  A matched set.  Look carefully at me and you know what you'll see?  You.  Your reflection.  Your mirror.

I backed away a few steps until I was up against the wall, but she followed.  I shook my head in denial.

            "No…not true.  I'm a vampire.  You're the bloody Chosen One."

            "It is true.  And I need you with me."

            "What you need is your soul back."

At the mention of her soul, she furiously pressed me into the wall.  Then her expression shifted, her hands starting to rub up and down my shirt.  

            "I thought you liked me like this."

Her small fingers began to nimbly unbutton my shirt, caressing the flesh they revealed, and I took a deep, unnecessary breath.  She leaned forward, and her mouth skimmed over my cheek to hover next to my ear.

"Souled Buffy wouldn't give you the time of day.  She'd never touch you like I touch you.  She'd never kiss you like I kiss you."

Those hands moved lower and rubbed against my rapidly growing bulge, before starting to work on my belt.  Her warm breath tickled my ear as she whispered to me.

"And souled Buffy would never let you fuck her.  You're beneath her.  But you and me…we're on the same level."

Gathering all my inner strength, I gripped her arms and pushed her away.

            "But it's souled Buffy that I want."

At first, she just stood there, shocked.  As the seconds ticked by, I watched her face fill with anger before she punched me hard in the face.  Once. Twice.  When I managed to block her third swing, she grabbed me, and brutally threw me against the sink.  My head hit the mirror behind it and it shattered, raining shards of glass around me, dazing me a bit.  

She reached out and knocked me to the ground, then straddled me. 

"Oh, you want me.  I know you want me."

She was so damn strong.  Had known she was stronger than I was when she'd picked up that sodding troll hammer and started to swing it around, when I could barely move it.  Now, I struggled against that strength.  

"The problem is, you've been going around pretending to be a man.  Pretending to be in love.  Trying to do the right thing."

She put her hands on my exposed chest and dug her nails in, then raked them down, and blood welled in the red furrows she carved into my flesh.  I hissed in pain and arousal, and she leaned in closer, her voice cutting into me.

            "But you're not a man; you're a monster.  And this isn't love.  It was never love."

Desperately trying to deny it, I pushed up in an effort to knock her off, but she simply laughed and ground herself against me.

"Remember telling me about killing your first Slayer?  About how her blood was an aphrodisiac…how you and Dru got off on it?  

She reached over for a broken piece of the mirror and swiftly slashed the fleshy part of her palm below her thumb.  As the blood started to flow, she pressed her hand against my mouth.

"You're a demon, Spike. A monster. That's all you'll ever be.  And that's what I want.  So, why don't we let the real you come out and play?" 

I could feel her warm blood in my mouth, and I tried not to drink.  Didn't want her to be soulless and eternally damned, like I was.  Frantically, I tried to spit it out.  She lifted my head and slammed it back to the tiled floor.

            "Swallow, damn you." 

That life-giving substance trickled down my throat, and I could feel my face begin to shift.  Knew I'd failed then.  Knew after this, I'd never be strong enough to leave her again.

            "Buffy, stop! You're hurting him!"

Dimly, I heard the Niblet.  I felt Buffy's grip loosen as she lifted some of her weight off me; then, there was a sound of a thud and a cry.  With a roar, I shifted fully into game face, took advantage of the Slayer's distraction, and threw her off of me.  

Dawn was lying in a heap, next to the tub, moaning. When she'd tried to protect me, Buffy had lashed out and sent her flying across the room.  I rushed to her side, kneeling down to examine her.  Buffy lay sprawled near the sink, her face beginning to register what she'd done.  

Grabbing my duster off the tub, I wrapped it around Dawn, and gently gathered her into my arms.   Still on the floor, Buffy began to stammer excuses, but I ignored them as I started to carry her little sis from the room.  Then, in a voice full of pleading, the Slayer questioned me.

            "What are you going to do with her?"

With my game face gone, I turned and looked at Buffy, still on the floor, the horror of what she'd done reflected on her face.

            "Supposed to protect her…'til the end of the world."

Then, with a sneer, I added my next words.

            "Made a promise to a lady."

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

MIRROR

Author's Note:  In the last chapter…let's just say that Buffy wasn't very nice to Spike.  When Dawn tries to protect him, Buffy swats her away.  Carrying the injured Dawn in his arms, Spike leaves Buffy.

CHAPTER 8- - - - - - - - - 

The next day, I'd finished one container of blood, and had started on the second, when I heard a knock on my crypt door and stiffened.  Only when my senses informed me that it wasn't the Slayer paying me a visit, did I move to answer it. When I opened the door, it was to find the Willow standing nervously outside.  With a sweep of my hand, I motioned her in, then closed the door after her, shutting out stray sunbeams and other hurtful things.  

Last night, I'd taken the Bit to Red's house.  Figured Tara would be there, and would look after her. There were no broken bones, but the bruising would take a long while to heal. The birds had taken one look at my face and Dawn in my arms, and had invited me in. I'd laid her down on a bed in an upstairs room, and as they'd fussed over her, I'd left.  Didn't feel up to an inquisition.  

Apparently, Dawn had talked. Now, as Red moved into my crypt, she seemed a bit uncomfortable. She tried to hide it, though, looking around, babbling out false pleasantries.  Decided to make it all easier on her by forcing her to the point.

            "Don't think you came here for a chat. What's up?"

She hesitated a bit, then looked me straight in the eye.

"This morning, I went to see Buffy.  She's…appalled about what she did to Dawn…and to you."

 Having a drink sounded like a right good idea at that point, so I started to head for where I kept my bottles when Willow intercepted me.  Brave girl, getting between a vampire and his booze.  

"She wants to get her soul now.  Because of what happened. She knows how important it is."  

The harsh reply, 'Glad to be of service,' rose inside of me, but it lodged in my throat and I couldn't get it out.   

"Spike, what I need to know is…if we do the spell now, are you in? Will you help?"

I threw her an outraged glance.  

            "Bloody hell, yes, I'll help."

Almost snarling, I advanced towards her.

"What you don't, what none of you, seem to realize is that I love the chit. Yeah, she hurt the Bit, hurt me. So what?  Not going to take my marbles and run home.  Especially not when she needs help."

The witch managed to look a trifle abashed at that remark, but then she squared her shoulders.

"We're planning on doing the spell at nine o'clock tonight, in the training room at the Magic Box. I guess I'll see you there."  

I stayed where I was, not turning around to watch her open the door and leave.  

- - - - - - - - - 

That evening, when I walked into the Magic Box, Buffy and the two witches were already there. Red walked past me to lock the front door, then proceeded to lead the rest of us into the backroom. I managed to get close to Tara, and slipped the notes I'd written into her hand. She glanced at me, questioningly, and I whispered to her.

           "For Dawn and Buffy…for afterwards."

She gave a sad little nod, then slid them into the pocket of her jacket.  The room was already set up with circles of powder and lit candles.  Willow indicated for me to step into the innermost circle that smelled of blood, and I wondered what she'd done to obtain it.  Buffy was a bit puzzled at my participation, but didn't say a word.  The three women stood around me and joined hands.  

Red started calling up the powers then, chanting from near forgotten languages.  While she and the other witch closed their eyes in concentration, Buffy didn't.  Instead, she stood and stared at me with shame, apology, desire, and a hundred other emotions flickering over her face.  I thought that one of those emotions might even have been love. When the magic swirled around me, I knew that it was almost time.  This was my last chance. I slowly smiled at Buffy and mouthed silently, 'I love you.'

At that moment, the ceremony switched to English.

           "Bring to us her soul, and accept this sacrifice in return!" Willow shouted.  

Buffy got it then. Understood what my part in the proceedings was.  Her eyes widened, and a scream of "No!" tore from her throat.  

She broke away from Tara and Willow's grip, and started to take a step forward when her eyes glowed, and bright light shot from her.  Then, with an agonized cry, she dropped to the floor.  Simultaneously, all the candles blew out.  

I stood in the dark, waiting.  For what, I wasn't sure.  Didn't know if I would be burned to ashes on the spot or whisked away to some hell dimension.  Even with my enhanced vampire vision, I still couldn't see anything, so I concentrated on my other senses.  My sense of smell was filled with the scent of the smoke pouring off of the extinguished candles.  I listened to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats from the humans nearby.  The heartbeats…the two sets of heartbeats.  

With a roar, I rushed out of the circle to flip on the lights.  Buffy was panting shallowly from where she lay on the floor. Willow was hunched over, exhausted from the powers she'd wielded.  And Tara, that sweet, sweet witch…was crumpled on the floor, unmoving. 

I stepped over to her body, now empty of life, kneeled next to it, and brushed a strand of hair away from the lovely face. The powers had rejected me, probably because I was a vampire, and taken Tara, the best of all of us, instead.  At first, Buffy and Willow stared at me blankly, not understanding. It was only when I reached over and gently closed the lids over unseeing eyes did they realize what had happened.  Buffy gave a cry of dismay.  Willow didn't make a sound, but darkness filled her, and the earth shook in response to her despair.  

The End

There's a two-chapter epilogue to this story.  I hope you enjoyed it.  Thank you again to my betas, Treacle-Antlers and Alena and thank you so much to everyone who gave me feedback.  


	9. Epilogue Part 1

Epilogue to "Mirror" 

Disclaimer:        Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon.  

Buffy's POV  
  


Part 1

I watched as Willow crawled across the floor to Tara's body and began chanting incantations over it.  Spike moved away from the couple and, once more, glanced at me.  

Still shivering and shaking in reaction to the return of my soul, I was overwhelmed with sorrow at Tara's death.  When I'd needed help, when I'd been soulless, she'd been there for me.  Now she'd died for me.  I knew that she hadn't meant to, but that only added to my guilt.  The intended sacrifice, Spike, came to me now, kneeling down and gathering me in his arms.  His hands softly rubbed circles on my back, trying to comfort me.  

God…those hands.  You'd think that when my soul returned, I wouldn't remember too much about my soulless state, that it might feel like a dream…or a nightmare.  But everything was crystal clear.  Now, as Spike's hands cupped my face, brushing away tears, memories of his hands on me at other times, raced through my mind.

His hands touching and stroking me, exploring each part of me in an effort to discover what made me gasp.  His hands coolly covering me, teasing and taunting, fingers plunging into me until I was frenzied with desire, then sending me over the brink before starting once again.  And I remembered those same hands, gripping my arms, struggling to push me off of him as I slammed him back against the tile of the bathroom floor, my bloody hand at his mouth, trying to force his demon to emerge. 

In horror, I pushed him from me and scuttled back…away from him and the memories.  At first, his eyes were wide and questioning, uncertain as to what was happening, then, realization that I was rejecting him hit. His face crumpled into pain, before resignation slipped over it.

On shaky legs I stood, not watching as he, too, rose from the floor.  I made my way to where Willow hovered over Tara, spells and pleas falling from her lips between sobs.  

            "Willow…don't."

            "I can fix this.  I can bring her back.  I know I can."

With madness in her eyes, Willow leapt to her feet and raced into the store.  I looked towards Spike, but he was as unsure as I was on how to handle my friend, so we followed her.  At first, we didn't see her, but a noise from the loft alerted us to her presence.  Cautiously, I climbed up the ladder with Spike behind me, to see Willow at the shelf where Giles' forbidden books were kept.  Her hands were extended towards them, her fingertips touching the spines, and her body was literally absorbing the dark magic.

I started to go towards her, to move her away from the shelf, but with a wave of her hand, she flung me back into Spike, who caught me, though he stumbled a bit at the force with which I was knocked into him.  Regaining my balance, I shrugged out of his arms and started forward again.

            "Don't try to stop me, Buffy."

            "Let Tara go.  She's at peace now."

Willow spun, hissing at me.

            "You don't know that."

"I do.  How can you even doubt it?  Tara was kind.  She was good.  If anyone ever deserved to be in heaven, she does.  Don't pull her out of there."

            "You mean like I pulled you out?"

Her hair and eyes were filled with darkness and, as she came closer to me, anger and magic sparked around her.

"I wish I hadn't.  If I hadn't brought you back then Tara would still be alive.  You wish I hadn't, too.  For months you moped around, missing your grave so much you acted as if you wanted to crawl back into it."   

She smiled then, a smile that caused goosebumps to rise on my arms and a cold feeling of dread to creep inside of me.  

"Well, why don't I rectify my mistake?"

As bolts of energy zapped towards me, Spike grabbed me, pulling me into his arms, trying to shield me from Willow's spell.  Instead, the strands of power wrapped themselves around the two of us.  I gasped as agony shot through me, and I felt Spike spasm, as well.  We fell to the floor, still clasped together, and I clenched my eyes closed, trying to shut out the pain.  Then, all was quiet and still, and I felt a coldness against my back.  Opening my eyes, I found that I couldn't see anything, but I could smell the earth that surrounded me and sense the weight of it above me.  I was back in my grave.

I screamed.  It was every nightmare that I'd had since I'd been resurrected, become reality.  Panicking, I started to thrash, but my hands were captured and I heard Spike's voice urgently pleading with me to calm down, reassuring me that I'd be okay, that he was there.  Willow's spell had sent him to my grave, as well.  

The casket that I'd clawed a hole in during my original escape had managed to keep most of the dirt out and kept some of the air in.   I gasped in some of that stale oxygen, panting desperately, focusing on the feel of my lungs expanding, breathing.  When I felt Spike release me to move upwards, I had to fight my urge to cling to him.  After a few moments of his absence, I was frantic, but then I felt him reach down and clasp my hand.  With determination, he pulled me from my grave until I was once again in the land of the living.  

I'm not sure how long I laid on the grass near my tombstone, willing my heart to stop racing and my body to stop shaking. I struggled with a desire to scream in anger at what Willow had done to me and an equal desire to curl into a ball and let the whole world drop away.  

It was quite sometime before I even noticed that Spike was lying next to me, brushing dirt from me, stroking my face, and making soothing noises despite the occasional hitch in his voice.  With what felt like a huge effort, I turned so that I was facing him.  He began to move away, but I lifted my hands to cup his cheeks.  With great tenderness, I placed my lips upon his.  His eyes were focused on me with burning intensity when I pulled away.

            "Thank you," I said.  

He glanced at my grave as if it were an abomination.  

"Remind me to destroy this place. Shouldn't even exist.  Should've never existed.""

With my fingertips, I turned his face back towards me, once again.  

            "Tonight, you saved me…when it counted.  Twice."

He looked at me, and I knew he realized that I was referring to his insistence that I get my soul.  Again, our lips met; only, this time, they lingered, exploring for a moment before I pulled back.  I watched him reluctantly move away from me and swallow heavily.  

I pushed myself up to my feet and he did likewise. We were both covered in dirt, and I could feel clumps of it in my hair and see some in his.  And, as much as I wanted a shower, I had something more important to deal with at the moment than good hygiene.  

Willow.  

tbc


	10. Epilogue Part 2

Epilogue to "Mirror"

Spike's POV

Part 2

She walked so swiftly and purposefully down the street, that even with my much longer legs, I had to strive to keep up.  When I'd plucked her from the ground, she'd seemed so weak.  I'd been a bit shaky myself; Buffy wasn't the only one with 'buried alive' issues.  I'd wondered if regaining her soul and having to face the consequences of her actions had been too much for her.  From the way she was acting now, though, she'd blocked it out for the moment.  Too busy doing her duty to soul-search.    

As Buffy marched towards the Magic Box, I knew that the true Slayer had returned.  She was radiant in her fierceness.  Hell, she glowed.  Had we all been so blinded by our happiness when she'd first came back that we'd been too daft to notice that she wasn't whole?

Less than a block away from the Magic Box, we spied Harris and Dawn entering the store, and we glanced at each other briefly before breaking into a run.  We raced into the shop to see Willow trying to lead Anya, Harris, and Dawn into the backroom.  Anya, for one, wasn't buying whatever Red was trying to sell and that was delaying the entire shebang.   Guess Demon Girl's instincts had kicked in, and she knew something wasn't on the up and up.

"I don't understand…I thought Buffy and Spike were going to be here.  And if I'd known you would be calling me in the middle of the night for help, I'd have paid the extra money and gotten an unlisted number."    

The others were startled when Buffy ran up, grabbed Dawn, and almost threw her to me.

            "Get her out of here, Spike!  Now!"

I nodded and started to turns towards the door with Dawn in my arms, but Willow's power surrounded me and I couldn't move.  Harris just looked from one friend to the other, confused, like the stupid prat he was.  Anya had ticked to the situation immediately, and was grasping her pendant and chanting a protection spell.  Buffy headed for the witch, but Red flung out her arm and Buffy was thrown back into Harris, knocking him down.  I figured that he was out for the count.  

Stuggling with the invisible bonds, I helplessly watched as, again Buffy tried to attack Willow, and was again tossed aside.  This time, when she flew through the air, she hit one of the loft supports, which broke off, causing the structure to sway and tremble.  

Buffy slowly rose to her feet.  Willow was winning, and we all knew it. 

            "I need Dawn!" shouted the witch.  "She's the key.  I can trade her for Tara."

Even with the binding spell, I could feel the little one trembling in my arms.  

"She's not even human…just a green ball of energy.  Think about it, Buffy…I get Tara back, and you get rid of this whiney brat that some monks forced you into taking care of."

Picking up the broken support, Buffy hurled it at her best friend.

            "No one calls my sister a whiney brat…but me."

With a wave of her hand, Willow sent the support flying away from her, to crash into one of the shop's displays.  Anya let out a gasp of dismay, and for a moment, her protection spell faltered, but seconds later it was back up in full force.  

Willow turned to me and I felt the bonds around me lift.  

"Well, if you're not going to be reasonable, I'll just have to talk to someone else, then."

I saw that Buffy was now the one struggling to move, her face grit in concentration at the effort.  Pushing Dawn behind me, I started to back away towards the door, keeping myself between Red and the Bit.   The witch came towards me with a smile on her face that reminded me of Drusilla.  It was the same smile Dru wore right before she ripped someone's heart out.  

"Spike, I need two people. Xander will help me - that's one.  Obviously Buffy and Anya are out.  That makes you pretty important."

"No.  Not going to help you."

"No?  You're evil, remember?  Have you forgotten what you really are?"

I figured that we were within a couple of yards of the door now, closer, but still too far to make a break for it yet.  Needed to keep the witch talking.

            "You're the brains.  You tell me what I am."

            "Oh, I don't need to tell you.  I'll show you instead."

She lowered her voice, so that I was the only one who could hear.  

"You think that if you keep helping, keep saving the world, then one day, Buffy will love you.  It's never going to happen.  She knows what you are, what you'll always be.   Watch her now…watch Buffy's face."

Suddenly I felt a pain in my head, like it was being split open and prodded into.  There was a flash of light, and then Willow let out a cry of triumph and whirled to face Buffy.  

            "Look what I've got!  

She held out, for everyone's inspection a small square of circuitry.  

            "It's Spike's chip. 

Buffy's eyes rose to meet mine and my dead heart ached.  On her face was reflected all the loathing that she'd ever felt for me.  She looked at me and all she saw was a vampire.

Willow turned once again to face me.

"Help me, Spike, and the chip stays out.  Help me and I'll give you whatever…or whoever you want."

Moments passed, while the tension lay heavy on us all, before I sighed and answered her.

"Fine.  You win."

The tears were streaking down Dawn's cheeks now, as I gripped her hand tightly and headed towards Willow.  Buffy's muscles were straining uselessly against the invisible bonds, but I ignored her.  Red simply smiled in victory.

            "Good.  Now all I have to do is wake Xander up."

She turned her back on me, then.  With all of my speed, I lunged for her throat, knocking her down to the ground.  Her concentration broken, the power holding Buffy dissipated and the Slayer grabbed Dawn and ran towards the door.  As they disappeared out into the night, I felt a lightning strike of pain in my head, and I reeled in agony.  The chip had been replaced.  

Willow flung me away and stood, touching the blood that still trickled from her throat where my fangs had pierced her.

            "That wasn't a smart thing to do, Spike."

            "Hey, evil here.  Just going with the flow."

She lifted her hand, and a ball of fire appeared in it.  Looked as if I was going to be nothing but ashes in a minute.  

            "You're not going to stop me," she vowed.  "No one is going to stop me!"

It was at that moment the Watcher showed up.

- - - - - - - - 

I followed Buffy and Dawn's scent all the way to my crypt after leaving the Magic Box, while the Watcher and the Witch battled it out.  Narrowly avoiding the swing of an axe, I entered my home.  Both girls looked at me with suspicion, but I only nodded at them as I made my way to my weapons chest.

            "Good, you're armed," I said noting Buffy's axe and Dawn's crossbow.

Grabbing a sword for myself, I led the way to the trapdoor and motioned for them to follow me.  After a moment's hesitation, they did.  We headed towards the tunnels and only when I heard Buffy's slightly erratic breathing, did I realize that scrambling about in the bowels of the earth might not be her idea of fun.  I tried to take her mind off of it by telling her about the Watcher's arrival, but she didn't say a word until we reached the point where the tunnels meet the sewers. 

            "Spike, Dawn has to rest."

I glanced back and realized that she was right.  The little one was close to collapse, both emotionally and physically.  I nodded and the girls both sank to the ground while I kept watch, my sword at ready.

            "Where are we going, anyway?" Buffy asked.

            "The Hellmouth."

With a yell, the Slayer was on her feet and pressing me against the rock wall.

            "Why are you taking my little sister there?

Frustrated, I pushed her off me.

            "The Hellmouth has its own brand of evil.  Magic tends to go all wonky near it."

I glared at her. She simply crossed her arms across her chest and glared back.  

"Good God woman!  I've offered to sacrifice myself for you, been tossed into a grave, saved you and the Bit from Willow…and was nearly roasted to a crisp for it might I add…and it still isn't enough for you.  What the bloody hell do I have to do to deserve you?"  

            "And what about what I deserve?"

Her defensive stance dropped from her then.  She glanced back to see if Dawn was paying any attention to us, but her sis was too far gone in her own misery to notice ours.  

"I deserve to have trust in a relationship – trust that I won't be hurt.  Trust that I won't have to hurt the person I'm with.  Spike, I understand you now, more than I ever thought I would.  When I didn't have a soul, it was like I was empty.  I didn't know what to do or how to act.  It was only my feelings for Dawn and…and others that kept me from…"

She glanced away for a moment, as if she'd just seen something in her mind that she didn't want to acknowledge.  With a heavy sigh, she looked back at me  and when she spoke, her voice was quieter and filled with regret.

"But I still managed to hurt Dawn, and my friends, and you.  And I don't have a demon inside me urging me towards destruction."

Moving closer, she stared at me, needing for me to understand.  Momentarily, I closed my eyes, wanting to block out what she was telling me.  

"Buffy," I pleaded in a hoarse whisper.  "When are you going to see the man and not the monster?"

"Spike…William…I do see the man.  But the vampire is always there, too."

She reached up and gently stroked my cheek before taking a shaky breath and continuing. 

"What you've done for me…making me realize that I needed a soul, saving me.  I can never repay you for that.  I do have feelings for you.  I care for you.  Much more than I should.  But I can't love you.  I can't let myself love you.  I'm sorry."

Leaning towards me, she pressed a soft, chaste kiss on my lips, and I felt my heart crumple into dust.  It was a kiss of good-bye.  Good-bye to all that we'd been to each other over the last few months, and good-bye to all my dreams of how we could be.  Part of me wanted to cry.  Another part wanted to kill.      

The earth shook then, causing dirt to sprinkle down upon us.  The Slayer dove for where her little sis was sitting, protecting her the best she could while I stood over the two of them, in an effort to shield them from the fallout.    The rumbling went on and on.  No ordinary California phenomenon, then. When it finally stopped bouncing us about, we stared at each other, not sure as to whether to venture on, or make a break for the surface.  

We ended up staying put.

After some time passed, there was a 'poof' and  Demon Girl appeared.  She told us how, despite beating the Watcher, Willow had decided that she couldn't live with the pain and the guilt of Tara's death, and made a play to destroy the world.  Anya spun us a tale about Harris saving us all with some lame story about a yellow crayon, and I had to laugh.  If I'd tried that one on Angelus and Dru, would've been digging pieces of crayon out of myself for the next decade.  If I'd lived, that is.

As the sun rose, Dawn and Buffy climbed up and out of the tunnels, but I remained in the dark.  Buffy glanced once more down at me, before reluctantly moving away into the sunshine, Dawn's hand in hers.   I stayed in the shadows, and made my way towards my crypt, knowing that it might be the last time I saw her.  I knew what I now had to do.  

It was time to give Buffy what she deserved.   

The End

Thank you again for all of the feedback.  Again, thank you to my wonderful betas, Treacle-Antlers and Alena.  


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